Everybody Loves Somebody Sometime
by Elle6
Summary: We all know Hermione and Severus are meant to be together, but they don't. This is a series of vignettes of Hermione and Severus through the ages and in the present as they try to find true love. WIKTT Challenge response! Complete.
1. France, 1351

**Everybody Loves Somebody Sometime**

By Katia

Elle_2637@yahoo.com

Rating: R

Summary: We all know Severus and Hermione are meant to be, but they don't. This shows all their past lives when they tried to love, while they struggle in the present for it to work.

WIKTT Challenge 'It's All been Done' by CynthiaWeasley@yahoo.com. One rule for the story is that it must have a recurring item in each vignette, try to see if you can find the one I picked! Please go to WIKTT read the rest of challenge rules. 

Legal stuff: I don't own anything. It's all JK Rowling's and Dean Martin's!

~~~~~

Everybody loves somebody sometime  
Everybody falls in love somehow  
Something in your kiss just told me  
That sometime is now  
  
Everybody finds somebody someplace  
There's no telling where love may appear  
Something in my heart keeps saying  
My someplace is here

~~~~~

            'Severus, don't do this!' Hermione cried to him across the dungeon room.

            'Do what, Hermione? End something that never started?' He spat at her.

            'Never started? So when we kissed, you felt nothing? You felt nothing when we made love? Is that nothing to you?' Tears were running freely down her face now.

            'It is better this way, Hermione. Just leave and forget about me.' He turned his back to her, so she wouldn't see him fight back the tears that threatened to ruin his façade of not caring.

            'Severus, every time we kissed, I felt shivers. When we made love, it was amazing. It's like we were meant to be together. Why can't you say that you feel it to? I know you do!'

            'Leave now Hermione. You will miss the train if you do not go now.' 

            'Severus, please, don't do this.' Hermione was now freely sobbing.

            'Leave. There is nothing here for you.' His back was still turned from her as she slowly left the room, wiping the tears off her face. 'There is nothing here for you,' he whispered as the tears finally spilled onto his face.

~~~~~

**France****, 1351**

            'Chantal!'

            'Coming, mama.' Chantal sighed as she raised her skirts and began the long walk to the main room in the castle. Her maid scurried behind her, panting as Chantal easily floated down the many staircases, trying to set Chantal's hair right.

            'This is a big day, my lady. Please do try to behave yourself.' The maid whispered as they neared the main hall.

            'In all the many years you have been serving me, have you ever once seen me disappoint my father? I will do what I must for my father, even if that means marrying some old man who has already have five wives and ten children.

            'My lady! Please, do not speak like that. What if someone heard?'

            'Then, at least they'd know my true feelings about all of this.' Chantal said as she swept down the last set of staircases, and began to walk more slowly down the last hallway.

            'You haven't even met the young man yet. Maybe he will be handsome.' The old maid said.

            'Mother simply tells me that it will be a great match for the kingdom, so that means it's another fat, old man.' Chantal quickly replaced the sneer on her face with a sweet smile as she approached the doors.

            The maid opened the door for Chantal to pass through with a whispered 'Watch yourself, my lady.' Chantal swept into the room gracefully, and slowly approached the front of the room where her father and mother were seated.  The room was full, but as Chantal had entered the room it had grown quiet, and everyone stared at her.

            Chantal raised her head high, and kept her eyes on her father. _"I'm doing this for father, and only for father." She repeated to herself in her mind. Her long, full skirts swished around her as she floated forward, and the jewels and golden thread woven into her skirt and her hair made the light dance in the room.  She knew she was beautiful, but it had never mattered before. She had simply been a child before, and now her golden hair always had to be done up, and her simple dresses had been replaced with beautiful gowns._

            She approached her father, and bent down to kiss his hand. He smiled at her and nodded toward the empty space beside his seat. She quickly rose and stood in her place. Then her father began to speak.

            'My friends, we have gathered here today to witness as my daughter,' He looked at Chantal quickly. 'And my closest ally's son are betrothed.'

            The people in the room applauded, and there was some cheering from the back of the room where Chantal could see some less savory men had managed to get in. 

            A man dressed in silver and green walked forward and stood beside Chantal's father. They spoke quietly to each other for a moment, and then the older man motioned to another, much younger man, who came forward, bowed, and kissed Chantal's father's hand.

            'My lord.' He said in a commanding voice that held everyone's attention, without him having to yell. 'I am very happy to receive your daughter as my betrothed.'

            _"Ah," thought Chantal. __"So this is the man who is to be my husband." She looked him over carefully, making sure no one could tell what she was doing. _"He's tall enough, and doesn't look bad at all. He is older than me, but not so old as to be my grandfather, as I was fearing."_ _

            The young man then came forward and bowed before Chantal who made a deep curtsey. He kissed her hand lightly. 'My lady, if you will accompany me and my father to our home for the next fortnight, we would truly enjoy your company.'

            'Of course, my lord. I would be delighted.' Chantal said, graciously. This was all to be expected. His family simply wanted to make sure that his future wife was not insane, and by having her at their estate they could ensure that before the marriage took place her father could not end the betrothment by attacking their estate.

~~~~~

            Their estate almost rivaled Chantal's home. She was amazed at how large it was, and had never expected anything like it. Her maid had let out a squeal of delight when they had first been able to see the estate from their carriage. 'Oh, my lady. You will be happy here. Imagine how rich they must be!'

            'Shush, money certainly will not be a problem, but does money have to do with my happiness?' Chantal said quietly.

            'Oh, everything, my lady! You will want for nothing here.'

            'Except love.' Chantal whispered to herself.

~~~~~

            The family had welcomed her with a large banquet.  The mother was kind, but Chantal could see under all the outward happiness she was anxious to see her only son married to a girl she would hardly know.  Chantal put up with the mothers questions, and tried to smile through it all, but it was hard. She was seated next to her betrothed during the banquet, and he seemed genial enough, but would only speak when she would first start a topic. 

            That night she could hardly sleep in her strange surroundings.  She had elaborate rooms, with elegant furniture and many fireplaces so she would be warm, but something was missing.

            The next day Chantal accompanied her betrothed and his father and mother on a ride through their land. It was very vast, and Chantal could hardly keep her excitement from being noticed beyond what was expected when she saw the beautiful gardens and lakes they owned.  

            'Pierre,' her betrothed's mother called to her son. 'Why don't you show Lady Chantal one of the towns?'

            'Of course, mother.' He replied. 'My lady, if you would follow me, there is a town near to where we are that I think you will find pleasing. 

            Chantal followed him, and soon she could see the small lines of smoke from chimneys and then the thatched roofs of the town. It was very quaint, but not by any means a small town. It was nearly as big as the town near Chantal's home.

            Pierre was nervous with his betrothed. She seemed intelligent enough, but sometimes she would lapse into silence. He could never seem to say anything to her, unless someone prompted him to.  She was beautiful, and she did seem to like his home, but he couldn't tell if she was coming to like him as well. 

            As they entered the village and rode up it's main street, many of the people stopped what they were doing to bow to Pierre and Chantal. Chantal found this all very embarrassing as she had never really rode through a town before while dressed as the royalty she was. The last time she had been into her father's town was when she had been much younger and wearing a simple dress with her hair loose. She began to turn red when a baker, seeing them approaching him, had stopped so suddenly all his bread had fallen off his tray. He didn't even seem to notice, but bowed deeply.

            Pierre noticed the baker, and reigned in his horse. 'If you will excuse me, my lady,' he said as he dismounted. He strode over to the baker, who bowed again deeply. 'No need for that, my man. I hear that you are the baker who delivers the bread to my home. I would like to personally thank you.' 

            The banker stammered something. Pierre then quickly picked up a few of the loaves of bread. 'How much for these?' he asked the baker. The baker stood silent, stunned. Pierre reached into his purse that hung from his belt and put into the bakers hand more than he normally made in a month. 'Thank you for your help.' Pierre said and then remounted his horse.

            'What shall you do with that bread?' asked Chantal. She was stunned at what she had just seen.  Her father hardly ever went out into the towns, and when he did it was to tell the people to be strong through the next war, or to make sure to continue to pay their taxes. Never had he spoken directly to a townsperson.

            'I believe that up that next street there is a family that could use some extra food. If you permit, I would like to give the bread to them.' Pierre said, closely watching Chantal.

            'Of course, my lord.' Chantal said, and followed him to the house.  It was very ramshackle, and the woman who sat outside of it was very old. Pierre once again dismounted.

            'Madame, I was wondering if you could use this extra bread today? I heard that your son is ill again.'

            'My Lord,' she said as she tried to stand up, but feel back down after struggling for a moment. 'We would be honored.' She accepted the bread. 'Please excuse me not being able to accept your gift properly, but I am having some more back problems, my lord.'

            'I understand. Please do not trouble yourself by worrying.'  Pierre said. He then quickly wished her the best with her health problems, and then mounted his horse again.

            They rode back out of the town after finishing their tour of it without speaking again. As they rode away from it back towards the estate Chantal couldn't repress her questions anymore. 'My lord, I have to express to you my surprise towards your actions in town. I don't think I have ever heard of anyone talking to their townspeople, or wanting to know about them individually.'

            'It is not common at all. In fact I will have to tell you that I normally cannot do that.' Pierre was being careful, wanting to know if his future bride would not want to occasionally get her hands dirty, or if she was one to sit in his estate and spend his money while doing nothing. 'My parents disapprove, but I feel that the occasional contact with the townspeople helps keep them loyal to our family.'

            'Of course, my lord. I'm sure that they look up to your family. I am sorry if you misunderstood me. I did not mean that I also disapproved. Far from that, but I was simply surprised.'

            Pierre nodded, and they finished their ride to the estate in silence.

~~~~~

            The day that Pierre and Chantal were to be married was soon approaching. Chantal no longer woke up every morning fearing the day that she would become Pierre's wife. They had never talked again in private as they had the day that they visited the town, but occasionally she felt that she could feel what his true feelings were on a topic when his father would bring up his opinion at dinner. Sometimes she caught him staring at her, but it no longer unnerved her. She felt that she might someday come to love her betrothed.

            Pierre was sure now that Chantal was the correct choice for his wife.  He had caught her once in their immense library, one of the only that he knew of, and certainly the only one that Chantal had ever heard of.  She had been standing there, just looking at all the books without ever toughing one, but he could feel how much she had wanted to read them. He was glad that he would not be marrying a dim-witted woman who would only be useful for bearing children. Pierre felt that he was coming to love his betrothed.

~~~~~

            They were married on a beautiful fall day. Chantal had looked radiant on her gown, and Pierre found that he could hardly tear his eyes away from her. They did come to love each other, and hardly were they to be found apart. Chantal was obliged to stay in the estate whenever Pierre left, but she always felt that she was with him in spirit. 

            They had not been married more than a few months when Chantal first realized that she was with child. It was early winter, and Pierre was out in one of the towns when Chantal was told by her doctor that it was not a cold as she had feared, but that she was expecting.

            Chantal was ecstatic, and sent for Pierre to return soon. He did, and they had a large banquet to celebrate the impending birth of their baby.

            In late winter Chantal was becoming rather large. Pierre had just returned from a trip to visit one of Chantal's father's towns.  Their peace treaty still lasted, and had become even stronger since Chantal had become with child.

            Pierre had lain down to rest, so Chantal decided to go to the library until he awoke. It had become her favorite room in the estate. She didn't know how Pierre had know that she would enjoy it, but one day he had brought her there and shown her how to find the book that she wanted. 

            She was just sitting down to continue a book she was reading, when her old maid rushed in. 'My lady!' she gasped. 'Please, come with me! Your husband is ill.'

            Chantal rose quickly, which was hard with the large bulge from her stomach. 'Ill? How?' She said to herself. Then she began to hurry to her husbands rooms.

            It was a long walk from the library, and Chantal had to stop many times because of her state. They finally approached the rooms, and Chantal walked forward to enter. 

            'No, my lady! You must not go in!' Her maid cried out.

            Chantal whipped around, almost losing her balance. 'Why mustn't I?'

            'The doctors do not know yet what he has, but they fear it is the Black Death.'

            Chantal fainted onto the hard stone floor.

~~~~~

            He did indeed have the Black Death, and Chantal was forbidden to see him. They said after a few days he was nearing the end. That night Chantal snuck out of her room and into the one where he was being kept.

            He was pale and hardly seemed to notice that she was there until she was right next to him. 'Mon amie.' She said quietly. 'Oh, my darling, how different you look.'

            'Chantal.' He whispered.

            'Yes?'

            'Je t'amie.'

            'And I you.' Chantal whispered back.

            He took a deep shuddering breath, and then his eyes seemed to stare into infinity.

            Chantal let her head fall onto his chest, a single tear dropped down her face as her body began to shake with suppressed sobs. The doctor's rushed in and pulled her off him.

            He was dead.

~~~~~

            The next morning Chantal went into labour. It was early, and the baby was born a still birth. Hours later, after the midwifes had tried to help her, Chantal passed into the next world. 

            They said that she had died of a broken heart, and that it was better this way. The family now lived together in heaven.

~~~~~

            A/N: I hope you like this story so far. I know it is very sad, but I can promise there will be bits of happiness throughout the stories. There will probably be about 8-9 little vignettes in this story. Each will take place in a different time period, and at the beginning of each new vignette there will be a little more of the Hermione and Severus story, which isn't over yet. The other characters are supposed to represent Hermione and Severus, please tell me if you think they are getting too far away from cannon.

 Also, this is not meant as a historical story, but if you see anything wrong in each vignette, please tell me and I will try to see if I can fix it!

Don't forget to look for the reappearing thing in each vignette!

As always, please R&R!!!


	2. Italy, 1547

**Chapter 2**

By Katia

Elle_2637@yahoo.com

Rating: R

Legal stuff: I don't own anything. It's all JK Rowling's and Dean Martin's and Josh Groban's!

~~~~~

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains,

You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas,

I am strong when I am on your shoulders,

You raise me up to more than I can be.

"You Raise me up" ~Josh Groban

~~~~~

Hermione boarded the train and found Harry and Ron.

'What's up Hermione, you don't look so good.' Ron said as she sat down.

'Nothing, I'm just hungry.' She replied as she sat down next to the window. Harry gave her an inquiring look, but went back to his game of Exploding Snap with Ron.

She watched the woods pass by as the train began to gather speed. She would not come back to Hogwarts, at least not for a long time. She could feel it. _'Just like I felt that Severus and I were meant to be.'_She snorted to herself. _'I suppose that was just a feeling.'_ But her heart was telling her differently. The farther and farther she got from Hogwarts and Severus the more it felt like it was tearing in two.

Harry knew something wasn't right with Hermione, but he just couldn't place it. She had said she was just hungry, but when the food trolley had come she hadn't gotten a single thing, nor had she snitched any of his and Ron's food. _"Maybe she is just missing Hogwarts,"_ he thought to himself, and then decided not to worry about it. _"Hermione has always taken care of herself, she'll do the same now."_

~~~~~

Italy, 1547

Aurelia swept down the staircase and quickly went out the door to the waiting carriage. Her two closest friends were waiting for her inside. 'I can't wait to get to the fair! I've been saving my pocket money for ages now, and it's just begging to be spent!'

'I'm just amazed that your old nurse let you out of the house, let alone going to a fair unaccompanied!' said Mia, to which Aurelia began to laugh.

'She didn't! She thinks I'm off to buy something for my mother!' Aurelia laughed harder and harder as the girls faces turned from excited to amazed at her daring.

'What will you do if she catches you?' Mia whispered.

'No need to be quiet! I'm so happy to be out of the house I could yell!' Aurelia demonstrated by giving a quiet yell.

'Oh please, dear Aurelia, don't get us into trouble again!'

'The worst that can happen is that my dear nurse will go to mama and tell her what I did, and then my mother will think I have a beau and will begin to plan our wedding!' Aurelia laughed again.

'Well, maybe you will find a beau at the fair!' Aurelia's other friend, Lydia said, with a conspiratorial wink to Aurelia. 

'Highly likely, I'm sure!' Aurelia said. 'When I'm next to you two no one ever notices me!'

'Oh, Aurelia, you know that it's the other way around!' Lydia cried.

'I wonder what will all be for sale. I just can't wait!' Aurelia said.

'You don't have to! The fair is just ahead!' Mia said, as she quickly peaked out the window.

She was right, and soon they were walking among the many swirling colors of the crowd.

'Oh, Mia, I'm so glad you told me to wear bright colors! If I had worn one of my usual gowns I would have looked so drab among all these people!' Aurelia quickly checked her dress. It was a beautiful blue that matched her eyes, and complemented her dark auburn hair. Mia was wearing a light blue gown, and Lydia had her favorite green gown on.

'Let's go to the vendors first!' Lydia said and they began to work their way through the crowd to the vendor area. 

There were so many things for sale. Cloths of all colors were spread out for everyone to view, and books and hair pins and ribbons seemed to be everywhere. Aurelia's first purchase was a new book, and Lydia bought a new ribbon that matched her green gown. Mia helped Lydia weave it quickly into her hair.

They approached a stand with hair clips, where an attractive young man was selling all sorts of clips, from jeweled to feathered, he had them all. His hair was dark, and he was rather tanned. Aurelia pointed to his table and directed her friends towards it.

Anthony was having a bad day. He owned a shop that sold many things, and he had many booths at the fair, but his assistant that was suppose to take over his hair pin booth hadn't shown up. So he was stuck here trying to convince spoiled young women who only wanted to flirt with him to buy his hair pins.

He was shy by nature, and loved the part of his business where he got to tabulate his earnings, and losses, but he hated to actually sell the items. His father had been the one who was good at selling, and that was how Anthony had gotten the shop.

A few young ladies walked by his booth again, hardly looking at the items on display, but instead at him. He fought the urge to scowl at them, and won, just barely.

Aurelia watched the young man as she saw a shadow of anger, or maybe sadness, cross his face. She directed her friends instead to the booth next to his so she could watch him without him noticing her. She hardly noticed that the booth she was at was only selling odd-smelling herbs and mixtures, but her friends did.

The young man looked irritated, almost as if he didn't want to be there, and yet whenever someone would stop at his booth he would aggressively try to sell them one of his pins_. "He is truly so beautiful, but yet I can see that he does not like the flirting of the other women."_ Aurelia observed as he patiently tried to re-direct one woman from him to his merchandise. 

She decided to approach him after the woman left, much to her friends delight. They feared they were starting to smell like the weird herbs they had been forced into looking at.

'Hello, signora.' said the young man. 'How may I help you?'

'We were simply browsing.' Aurelia said and began to look and lightly touch some of the clips.

'That one is beautiful,' Mia said, pointing to a clip with many dark blue stones in it.

'It's gold with sapphires set into it. It would look beautiful on any of you ladies.' The young man said. 'Would any of you like to try it?'

'I would, please.' Aurelia stepped forward.

'Of course. Just turn around so I can fix it in your hair.' Aurelia did as he said, and in a few seconds it was fixed into her hair and glittered from there.

'Oh, Aurelia, it's beautiful,' Mia breathed. 'You just must buy it!'

'It looks absolutely gorgeous in your hair, you just must get it!' Lydia said.

'I suppose I must if you two insist.' Aurelia said.

'We do!' Mia said quickly.

Aurelia turned to the young man. 'Could you take it out for me, signore?'

'Of course,' He quickly slipped it out of her long hair.

Aurelia paid for the pin, and then began to walk away, wishing that she at least knew the name of the young man, or if she would ever see him again. When he had touched her, even for those brief moments, she had felt something go through her. She felt as if she knew him.

'Signora!' She heard a voice behind her call. It was the young man. Aurelia looked at her friends, who were smiling mischievously, and then walked back to the booth. 'I nearly forgot to give you the name of my store. It's located on Ivory lane, and is called Anthony and Associates. I hope you will visit it soon.'

'I am more interested in your name, signore.' Aurelia said.

'I am Anthony Perillo. And my I ask yours?'

'Aurelia Millano. I will be sure to visit your store. Good day.' Aurelia walked back to where her friends were whispering and looking back at Anthony.

~~~~~~

'Well? Tell us everything!' Lydia stared at Aurelia across the carriage.

'Tell you what?' Aurelia glanced out the window to see that they were still far away from her home.

'What did he say to you? What's his name? Has he proposed yet?' Lydia laughed. 

'What do you mean by has he proposed? Of course not!' Aurelia whipped her head to glare at her two giggling companions.

'You know what we mean, or could you not see the way that he looked at you?' Mia said as she gasped for more air from laughing so hard.

'I'm sure I don't know what you mean,' Aurelia paused, and listened to her friends laugh at her some more. She looked down at the pin that she had held in her hand since they had left the fair. 'Although I do think our next excursion should be to his shop.' She said quietly, almost hoping her friends would not hear her.

'His shop? As in he owns it?' Mia inquired. 

'Yes, or at least that's the way it sounded. It's called Anthony and Associates, on Ivory lane.' Aurelia said.

'Oh,' Lydia said, and stopped laughing.

'What's the matter with that?' Aurelia asked.

'Well, we figured he just worked at the shop, and he was too poor to even think of you marrying, but if he owns the shop, and if it's successful, maybe he could actually court you.' Lydia explained.

'Yes, I suppose he really could.' Aurelia turned back to the window, where she saw they were approaching her home. 'I will see you both at French lessons tomorrow?'

'Of course you will, dear Aurelia.' Mia paused. 'Maybe we should pretend like today didn't happen and forget about the shop owner.'

'Maybe we should, but I'm not sure if I can.' Aurelia descended from the carriage and walked into her home, leaving behind two very confused young ladies.

~~~~~

A few moments after Aurelia left his booth, Anthony saw his assistant approaching from the opposite direction. 

'You are late, young man.' He said sternly to the boy.

'I'm sorry signore Perillo, but I couldn't find the booth.'

'Fine excuse, but I will overlook it this time. Get to work, I'm leaving.' Anthony said, and strode off, his mind racing.

~~~~~

            Aurelia spent the next few days at home.  Her maids whispered that she was much too withdrawn for someone who had as exciting a life as she had. She missed two concerts, telling her parents that she had a headache.

            On the fifth day after she had gone to the fair Mia and Lydia stopped by to see if she wanted to go shopping. 'Are you insane?' Aurelia asked them.

            'Not that we know of.' Mia said, and pulled a face. 'We just thought that you might like the excuse to run down to signore Perillo's shop and see if he's in.'

            'And what exactly would I say to him?' Aurelia whipped around and looked out a window. They were in her sitting room, and the other two girls were seated while Aurelia stood. 'Any ideas, because I don't have one. How about "Signore Perillo, from the moment I saw you I knew that you were the love of my life and as long as you have enough money you might actually be able to marry me?"' She slumped down into the nearest chair and looked at her friends.

            'Well, you could just go in and flirt again. Or maybe you could go in and talk to him, and then leave a little note behind if you think he's interested also and tell him where you live. Or-' Mia was cut off by Aurelia standing up again, glaring at her.   

            'There is no way that any of these plans would work. And haven't you heard my mother lately? She thinks it's time for me to be married, and has been looking for a suitable husband for me! It's only a matter of days before she comes to me with the joyous news of my impending marriage to some old man who smells.'

            'I'm sure your mother would never marry you off like that! She would listen to-' Lydia was cut off by Mia placing a calming hand on her arm to sush her.

            'I wish that were true, Lydia.' Aurelia said in a quiet voice. 'I wish many things were true.'

~~~~~

            Anthony sank into a deep chair in his office, and sighed deeply. It had been a long week, and he had spent every day of it at his shop, hoping against all hope that Aurelia would come, but she hadn't. Whatever he had felt for her had been something special. He felt as though he knew her from some other place, but could not think of where or when. 

            When he was feeling the worst, the most depressed, he would think of the fine jewels she had worn and how easily she had lain down a rather large sum for her hair pin. She would never consent to marry him, even if she felt what he felt for her.  She must be very rich, and he, Anthony, was a wealthy merchant, but not near wealthy enough to even dream of marrying someone such as Aurelia.

            And yet dream he did, every night, and all day long. He dreamed of their wedding day, their children, their old age together. He would sit in his shop, staring blindly out the window, dreaming of the day when he would get to kiss her, feel her lips touch his, and hear her whisper his name. 

~~~~~

            Two weeks had passed since Aurelia had met Anthony, and all she thought of was him. She was quiet and, after the one visit from Mia and Lydia, she refused to see any other visitors. Her mother inquired after her health every day, and finally Aurelia gave in and told her mother she was feeling well enough to go to the theater.

            Her maids dressed her and did her hair for her, and she was as silent and still as a doll. She looked amazing. Her auburn hair shown in the light and her navy blue dress looked amazing on her. She joined her mother in their waiting carriage, and soon they were at the theater.

            She walked silently to their booth, pausing to smile and nod whenever her mother would stop for a moment to share the latest gossip with a woman she knew. When they finally made it to the booth, Aurelia sank into her seat, glad that it was a private balcony and she need not worry about if she was sitting straight until the main lights were dimmed and their balcony lights would illuminate them to the main seats. She used to love that all the poorer people could see that she sat high above them and it helped see if any of her friends were at the theater that night. Tonight she dreaded when the lights would dim, praying that for some reason they wouldn't.

            The play started, and the lights dimmed, and Aurelia straightened up when her mother pinched her. She almost wished she could see the other people in the main area, for the play bored her and she couldn't see a thing except the few other private boxes.

            At intermission a young man entered their box and kissed Aurelia's mother's hand. 'Signora, I saw you sitting here with your beautiful daughter, and wondered if you would mind some company for the rest of the play.'

            'Of course, we would love your company, Signore Bondi. Please, have a seat before the play starts again. I believe you know my daughter, Aurelia?' her mother said.

            'Yes, I believe I have the pleasure of dancing with her once in Milan.' He took the seat to the side of Aurelia, away from her mother. 'How are you feeling? I have heard that you are not well from a friend.' He politely inquired.

            'I am well, thank you.' Aurelia said. A few seconds later the lights dimmed and she was saved from having to speak any more with the young man. She could see him staring at her occasionally through the play, and it unnerved her. He was handsome, but he knew it and seemed arrogant. Aurelia couldn't stand him just from the few moments she had actually spoken to him.

            She drifted off, not watching the play, but thinking about Anthony.

~~~~~

            Anthony had decided to try to forget Aurelia. She was still on his mind every moment of the day, but he pretended to himself and to others that he was normal again.  He went about his business as he always had, and even dug up the theatre ticket he had bought weeks ago. _"I will over come this. She is naught but a girl, and nothing to me." He thought to himself as he stared at the tickets. _"I will go, I will socialize, and I will be myself."__

            He arrived at the theatre and found his seat. One of his friends was seated in front of him, and they began to talk. His friend, Bernardo Bondi, was telling him about a young lady he was hoping to marry. Anthony smiled and laughed through the whole story of how the mother was trying to convince him that her daughter was the girl he should marry, but how the daughter herself had been withdrawn from society for the last two weeks with a sickness. 

            'I'm sure she's been spending those two weeks trying to look her most beautiful for me,' Bernardo said in a booming voice. 'I don't think she was sick at all, but was just nervous about meeting me.'

            'I'm sure that's all it was as well, Bernardo, for what girl wouldn't be?' Anthony laughed along.

            'Her mother told me that she would be attending the play tonight, so at intermission I am going to join them in their box. I will have to find them when the lights go down.' Bernardo said.

            'Good luck.' Anthony said as the lights fell.

            After a few minutes, Anthony could no longer focus on the play. He was thinking of Aurelia and how he wished he had something more to her the day they had met.

            Bernardo turned around in his seat and quickly whispered to Anthony. 'I've found her. Third row, second balcony.'

            Anthony looked up at the illuminated balconies, and found the one Bernardo had told him about. The woman closest to the stage was older, and Anthony assumed she was the mother. In the seat behind her was a beautiful young woman. Suddenly Anthony stopped breathing. _"It's Aurelia!"_  He thought, ecstatic. She looked radiant, her hair glistening in the flickering candle light, and her beautiful jewels sparkling on her chest. Anthony stared at her, and took in a deep breath, amazed at seeing his dream right before him.  And then he remembered what Bernardo had said about the young woman in that box. She was to marry Bernardo. Anthony felt sick.

            At intermission Bernardo stood up and stretched his arms. 'Good thing I'll be in one of the boxes from the rest of the play, much more leg room!' he smiled at Anthony. 'Well, wish me luck, I'm about to go meet my future wife!'

            'Good luck, Bernardo. She is a beautiful woman, you are lucky.' Anthony said, choking on the words, but forcing them out.

            'Thanks, Anthony.' Bernardo paused. 'You don't look so good.'

            'I'm actually going to head home, I believe. I have a splitting headache.' Anthony lied, and got to his feet to leave.

            'Well, get some rest then, my friend.' Bernardo waved, and then walked off to go to Aurelia's box. Anthony felt his heart breaking.

            He walked outside, and soon was in his carriage on his way home. _"She will be better off with him than me," He thought as the carriage bumped along. _"Bernardo has a larger fortune than I and they will be happy together, I'm sure."_ Anthony sighed deeply._

~~~~~

            Aurelia lay down heavily on her bed that night as soon as the maids had finished undressing her and taking down her hair. She felt exhausted. Bernardo had talked with her and her mother for a long time after the play, entertaining them with stories and jokes, but Aurelia had only wanted to go home. Eventually they had said their good-byes, and Bernardo had promised to call on Aurelia soon. 

            She stared at the ceiling and tried to think of the good things about Bernardo, but every good thing about him was not as good as Anthony. Bernardo was not as handsome in her eyes, he was not as smart. But he was richer, and that was what her mother cared about.

            On the way home her mother had told Aurelia that Bernardo was interested in asking for her hand. Aurelia was stunned, and she still was as she lay on her bed. To marry that man would be against all the deepest feelings of her heart, and yet she knew if he asked for her hand in marriage she must accept.

~~~~~

            Bernardo did ask for her hand in marriage within the week, and Aurelia and Bernardo were married a few short months later. Anthony had been sent an invitation from Bernardo, but declined as he was going out of the country during that time.

            As Bernardo and Aurelia drove of from their wedding to their new home that Bernardo had had built for them, Bernardo began to kiss her. Aurelia thought back to the young man at the fair whom she had never seen again, and gave in to her new husband. She forced herself to forget about Anthony.

            Anthony sat in his hotel room in France counting the minutes on his watch. He knew that at that moment Aurelia and Bernardo were getting married in Italy. A single tear dropped down his face, and then he pushed any and every thought of Aurelia out of his mind. Anthony set up a new shop in France and moved there. His store was prosperous, and his other store in Italy also remained prosperous. He married a French woman and they had several children. He was never truly happy.

            Aurelia and Bernardo had seven children together. They lived a life of pleasure and had everything they ever wanted, but Aurelia never found happiness. 

~~~~~

A/N: Well? I hope you liked this chapter as well! The next installment will either be set in Arabia or in New England…I'm not sure yet which I'm going to do.

Have you found the recurring item in each story? Review and tell me your guess, it's not all that hard, but you'll have many chapters to come to get more clues from! 

R&R please! Happy Holidays and New Year!


	3. Saudi Arabia, 1596

Chapter 3

By Katia

Rating: R

Legal stuff: I don't own anything. It's all JK Rowling's and Dean Martin's and Josh Groban's! So please don't hurt me!

J'irai jusqu'au bout du monde

Je me ferai teindre en blonde

Si tu me le demandais

J'irai décrocher la Lune

J'irai voler la fortune

Si tu me le demandais

"Hymne a L'amour" Josh Groban

It had been two weeks since the term had ended and Severus had done little but sit around his rooms at Hogwarts. Normally during summer break he spent his time at his home in France, but this year he had hardly moved from a chair in front of his fireplace. Hermione's face, tear stained and puffy from crying, haunted his every moment.

At times he would imagine her still that way, crying in her bedroom over him. At other times he imagined her having fun during her summer, completely forgetting him. Both scenes tore him apart inside.

Today he was looking particularly bad. The night before had been spent in the company of a fine bottle of whiskey, and he hadn't bothered to move from where he had fallen asleep, or passed out, the night before. Finally, he stood up, a little unsteadily, and strode to his cabinet of potions. He yanked it open irritably, looking for his hangover cure. He found the bottle, but not surprisingly it was empty. He groaned, and then slammed the bottle to the back of the cupboard.

Looking around himself for the first time since the day he had forced Hermione out of his life, he realized just what a mess his home had become. He began to remove all the dirty dishes, clothing, and general messiness. Many bottles went clattering through the air, and most were not of the potions variety. After a few minutes of 'pointless wand waving' he sighed and looked at the newly cleaned room.

He walked to his bedroom, quickly got dressed, and then walked out of his rooms, and out of Hogwarts.

**Saudi Arabia, 1596**

Haifa sighed contentedly as she eased herself into a chaise lounge in one of her gardens. She was in the shade of one of the near-by imported trees so the sweltering sun could not reach her. She was newly married to Prince Kafir and her marriage could not have been arranged better. He was rich while she only had her beauty. He was still relatively young, and she was his first wife. Her name meant 'beautiful body' and it was just that which had raised her from the near-poverty of her nomadic family in which she had grown up.

Life in Kafir's palace was wonderful to Haifa. She was fed the most amazing things, and regularly, she had the most wonderful clothing in the richest fabrics, and she had amazing gardens to walk through. Kafir had only 'visited' her once since their wedding night, and Haifa had to admit she was glad for that. She knew her wifely duties as the Koran dictated, and she was willing to perform them, but that didn't mean she could force herself to like it. She hated how she was now his property, and how he dictated every moment of her life.

A servant approached her and informed her that her husband would be expecting her to join him for a family dinner this evening. Haifa knew exactly what that meant. They would join his whole family for dinner and afterwards she would have to socialize. She hated socializing with his family. They were all loud and boisterous. She hadn't met all of them (His was a large family) but she had met as many as she wanted to.

But it wasn't like she really had a choice. She groaned as she lifted herself of her chair, and walked inside to begin getting ready to look beautiful for her husband and his family.

The gathering was loud, as it always was, and Amir was looking for a way to make a hasty, but acceptably respectful, exit. He disliked these events, but he was obliged to attend, especially because he has just returned from a long trip to help extend his trading.

Hafi, one of his sisters, was chattering on to him about her first born son, who was about to be married. Amir really didn't care at all, about the boy. His mind was wandering when suddenly he was snapped back to attention by his favorite brother, Kafir, approaching. Beside him was an amazingly beautiful woman. She was slim, with long, straight black hair. But it was her eyes that captured his attention. Instead of looking dull, her eyes sparkled with excitement, interest and intelligence. Amir had never before seen such things in the eyes of a woman who belonged to his family. Normally all pleasure they had in life was squashed out of them quickly. He never saw the eyes of other women because the thick black material that covered their faces and their whole bodies was always firmly in place whenever they were not surrounded completely by either family members, or women.

He stood up, quickly excusing himself from his sister, and then walked over to embrace his brother. 'Kafir, how long has it been since we last talked?' He asked.

'It has been much too long, Amir.' Kafir smiled. 'I don't believe you have met my wife, Haifa,' Kafir motioned to the woman beside him.

'No, I have not.' He bowed to her as she inclined her head downwards. 'You are very lucky, Kafir, to have such a beautiful wife,'

'Thank you, I am proud to say that I did get a good one.' Kafir said. Amir noticed how the woman's cheeks blushed slightly as her husband spoke of her in such a way.

'_So,'_ Amir thought. '_She might actually have as much intelligence inside her as her eyes suggest. I wonder how long it will take for my brother to kill that.'_

'Please excuse my for a moment, I have not yet spoken to our uncle.' Kafir said, nodding to an elderly man who was sitting alone in a back corner of the room. 'Would you mind entertaining my wife while I am gone?'

'Of course I would not mind, brother.' Amir said politely. He waited until his brother was safely out of earshot before quietly saying to the woman, 'Come with me,' and then taking her by the elbow to a side room.

Haifa was enjoying herself even less than she thought she would have at the dinner. Her husband was showing her off to every relative who had not yet met her, and she began to think that this must be what the animals at auction must feel like. She amused herself by thinking evil thoughts about the people she was introduced to. She knew she would have to fast the next day for all her sins, but she could not help herself. It kept her from falling asleep while standing. She knew her husband would be mad if she did not behave.

They had just excused themselves from a series of uncles whom had not met Haifa before. Suddenly she found herself whipped around and pulled towards a different table. Her husband whispered harshly into her ear as they approached. 'This is a very important person to me, financially. Look as pleasing as possible.'

Haifa was amused and yet troubled by how her husband used and abused his family members to get the things he wanted. He was one of the richest in his family, and yet he was always making new plans to gain more money and property.

The man they were approaching was the first man she had seen yet tonight that did not automatically let his eyes rest on her breasts. Instead his eyes were staring into hers, making her feel uncomfortable and at the same time intrigued.

He was introduced to her, although her husband did not introduce her to him. It was just another instance where he treated her like cattle. She hated how every time someone complemented him on his wife he would respond that he had chosen well, and this time, in front of the intriguing stranger she couldn't help but blush.

Her husband walked off, leaving her with the stranger. He whispered to follow him, and not really caring, she let him lead her through the crowded room. They entered a side sitting room, which was empty, and he motioned for her to have a seat on one of the plush chairs. He sat in the chair next to her. She knew she should feel wrong about this. Being alone with a man, even a family member, would start gossip and her husband would be very upset. But for some reason she was not at all worried in the presence of this man.

He sighed, leaned forward, and then finally spoke. 'I would like to apologize for my brother. He was raised to be that way towards women.'

Haifa was stunned. She didn't know what to say, so instead she simply nodded her head.

'Are you a mute? I have never heard you speak.' He said a small smile on his face.

'No. I have simply not had anything to say.'

'I am glad you are not mute, but sad that you have not had anything to say.'

'There is very little to say in my life. My husband manages to do most of the talking for me,' she responded. She liked this man. He treated her differently from all the other men she had met from her husband's family.

'I do realize how wrong it was of me to pull you in here. You do realize that if we were found it could be bad for you?' Amir said.

'Of course I do. I simply decided to go with you anyway.' Haifa smiled at Amir and he smiled back.

'Well, we shouldn't risk it any longer, although I do hope to see you again soon.'

'And I hope to see you soon as well.'

Amir led her out of the room and introduced her to a group of his younger cousins. She watched him throughout the night, and every once in a while, when their eyes would meet, she felt a small thrill go through her. It helped keep her smiling through the long, tedious night of introductions.

He was sad to let her go, but his cousins seemed happy to meet her. They could be vicious when they wanted to be, but they seemed to like Haifa, almost as much as he did. He watched her the rest of the night. Sometimes he would catch her looking at him, and then he would smile at her. Nearly every time this happened she would quickly look away, but a small smile would always creep onto her face. Except one time, only a little while before she left, she continued to look at him. They smiled at each other, and then (although he wasn't one hundred percent certain) she winked at him.

That night he was unable to sleep. He realized he was lonely. With his constant travels abroad to maintain his trading contacts he had never gotten around to marrying. He did not own his own home in his own homeland, but had several small homes in other countries he often visited. He was getting older, and had lived a life of solitude.

And he realized just how much he wanted her.

He didn't want Haifa in the way his brother did. He didn't want her for her beauty and to parade her to his family and friends. He wanted Haifa because she was unlike any other woman. She had been able, so far, to resist his family's way of turning all their women into subservient, idiotic, and empty wives.

He hoped she would be able to maintain her vitality. And, he decided that night, he wanted to help her maintain that amazing love of life. The only question was how he could do that.

A few weeks had passed since the family dinner. Haifa felt bored with her life. Every day she would awake and spend an hour or so with her maid getting ready for the day. Then she would lounge around the house, just in case her husband should decide to stop by. He hardly ever did.

She had few friends, and the ones she had were too poor to be able to travel to visit her. She was not allowed to visit them. So she spent her days wandering through the gardens, or reading the few books she could find.

Then one day a group of Kafir's sisters visited her to invite her to go with them to the bazaar the following week. They were being escorted by Amir.

She immediately agreed to join them.

The following week was spent wondering what to wear and how to act. Not that it mattered what to wear for she would be wearing her abaya, nor did it matter how she behaved for she would have to remain silent and only speak to him when he spoke to her. She found that she was hoping for him to speak to her, and that she was increasingly anxious to see him again. He was interesting, and she wanted to know why he, out of all of Kafir's family members, treated her like a human, instead of property.

Amir decided that the only way to help Haifa was to be around her. So he decided to offer to escort his sisters to the local bazaar, and mentioned that they invite their newest sister-in-law. Now he could only hope that she would agree to go.

The day of the bazaar arrived and he went to the main entrance of his fathers home to receive the women. There were nearly twenty women waiting for him. He pitied them with their boring lives. His eyes scanned the group quickly, looking for Haifa, and managed to spot her, near the back o the group.

As they left the building the women all placed their thick black veils over their faces, so Amir had to keep an eye on Haifa at all times lest she suddenly disappear into the anonymous cluster of black-clad women.

When they reached the bazaar the women slowly picked apart each stall, looking for anything new or any good deals. It was a slow process for the whole group could only be at one stall at a time so Amir could watch them.

Before long one of his sisters quietly pointed out that it was near noon-time, so they made their way to a food vendor, and he bought them lunch. He managed to find a large shade tree where they all sat down and ate. Amir managed to seat himself next to the black blob he believed to be Haifa.

The women were discussing the different stalls they had visited so far, and finally Haifa spoke up to defend the merits of a particular fabric vendor. He had chosen the correct blob to sit by. The only problem was that he didn't know what to say to her. Whatever he said now would be heard by the whole group, so he kept his mouth shut, except to stuff more food in.

He hadn't spoken to her. Haifa sat eating her lunch wondering why he hadn't spoken to her. Perhaps he hadn't felt the same way about her, although she didn't even know how she felt about him. She felt frustrated because she couldn't talk to him, but at the same time she realized that he really hadn't had a chance yet that day where it would have been proper to speak to her. But she was still frustrated. She wished she could only take off her veil and look at him properly in the eyes and see if she could get the same feeling again. He had looked at her a couple of times during the day, and she felt as if he had always been watching her surreptitiously through the day.

Once the group had finished eating they went back to perusing the stalls. Haifa noticed that a few of the women had wandered away from the group, and decided to help make it easier for Amir to speak with her if he wanted to she would wander off as well. She moved a couple stalls away from the group, and once she saw that Amir had noticed she was gone she walked down an aisle, out of the sight of the group. She just hoped this worked.

He was getting frustrated. He had absolutely no opportunity to speak with her. They were back to shopping, and he had decided to be the 'nice' brother and let some of the women wander a little ways away to shop on their own. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Haifa moving away from the group. He watched her as she moved a few stalls down the line and paused for a few moments, and then she walked between two of the stalls and was gone.

He quickly found his eldest sister and told her he was going to go find one of the women who he feared had gotten lost. She nodded and said she would watch the other women while he was gone.

He strode down the line of stalls, and then between the two where Haifa had disappeared. She was right in front of him, looking at a booth that sold fine cloths.

'You mustn't stray so far from the group.' He said quietly from directly behind her.

She jumped a little at his voice and then turned around. 'Oh, it's just you. You scared me.'

'I apologize.' He hesitated for a moment, and then decided to take a chance. 'I wanted you to know that I am sorry that you have married my brother. I am afraid that living too long with him will kill you desire to live as it has done to al the other women who have entered into my family.'

'Thank you, although I'm not quite sure what you mean by all that.' Haifa replied.

'What I mean is that when I see you I see a special person who I'm afraid will become dull and boring like all my other sisters. I also mean that I wish that I had married you instead of my brother.' Amir couldn't believe that he had just said that to her. It was totally inappropriate.

Haifa gasped a little and turned away from him, towards the stand selling cloth. She studied a particularly nice silk pattern, and then dropped it back on the table and turned back towards Amir. 'What are you trying to do by saying things like that?' She implored quietly. 'There isn't anything you or I can do about that, although you are right that Kafir isn't the right husband for me.'

'I apologize for saying that. You are correct that there is nothing we can do about it. Except-' He stopped.

'Except...?' Haifa asked.

'Well, I would like to see you again, as I said when we first met. I would like to see you alone.'

'That isn't possible. It's not done.' Haifa said.

'I know. But at the same time...' He paused again. 'Is Kafir home often during the day?'

'No.' Haifa answered uncertainly.

'Then I will find some excuse to come over while he is not home. It will be something good and plausible. And then you and I can talk this over more. We need to get back to the group now.' He began to walk away.

'But, what if-' she started to say.

Amir turned back around. 'No one will know. I promise you.'

They walked back to the group together and spent the rest of the day far apart.

They did meet. In fact, Amir came over the very next day on some made-up pretext. They spent an hour together, talking mostly about how to meet again. Amir told Haifa that he was afraid he might be in love with her, and she confessed the same.

They met again at her home many times over a few months. He kissed her once, and then after that whenever he was about to leave he would kiss her again. Then one day Haifa heard something that broke her heart.

She was walking to the kitchen when she heard her maid and another servant talking with raised voices. She went closer to the sound and found her maid and one of the male servants talking rather loudly about Haifa and Amir. She listened as her maid tried to convince the male servant not to tell Kafir about her and Amir. The male servant said it was his duty to his master and to Allah to tell Kafir that he had seen them kissing.

Haifa quickly ran up to her room and began to cry.

Amir came by the next day. The moment he stepped into her room he was attacked. Kafir and five of his other brothers pinned him to the wall.

'What is going on?' Amir roared.

'You have been abusing my wife. She will be taken care of by the authorities, but because they decided to give you no punishment, we decided to administer one our selves.' Kafir said right in Amir's face.

The six men proceeded to beat Amir until he passed out. They left him there.

Haifa was in prison. She was alone in her tiny cell, with no light and the sound of the rats running under the little bench. It smelled of mildew and mold. She didn't know how long she had been there. She could hardly even remember arriving at the prison.

When Kafir had arrived home he was already angry. He had stormed into her bedroom and proceeded to scream and yell at her. Once he had run out of obscenities he had begun to hit her. She had nearly passed out, but some of his brothers arrived, so he stopped.

She remembered how relieved she had been when she had seen the men enter her room. She thought they would tell her husband to stop hitting her and to calm down. Quite the opposite. They spit at her and yelled at her about how she had shamed their great family. Once they were through with that they helped drag her to the prison.

And now she was waiting to be stoned to death. She knew that was the punishment for adultery. And her only hope was that Amir was be saved from death.

The next day Amir was dragged by his brothers to watch Haifa be stoned. He was still weak from his beating the day before, but once they arrived at the stone pit he put up a fair fight trying to get to Haifa. She was tied to a stake at the bottom of the pit. When she saw him she smiled. She didn't seem to care that she was about to die. She was only happy that her love had avoided the same fate. The crowd grew and at noon they began to throw stones at her. At first she managed to not cry out, but after a few moments she sank to her knees and began to scream and cry. It was over in a few minutes.

A/N: Yes, another sad ending. I'm hoping to get the next chapter up very soon, maybe tomorrow because I'm not working. I hope you all liked this chapter, and thanks to everyone who has reviewed. It means a ton to me.

I would like to quickly apologize for the long gap between chapters. I got too busy with school, and then I started my first job, so for about 6 months I had no spare time. Now things have slowed down with work, so I have more time!

Thanks again!

p.s. this is the longest chapter I have ever written!


	4. Ireland, 1849

**Chapter 4**

By Katia

Rating: R

Legal stuff: I don't own anything. It's all JK Rowling's. Please don't hurt me, I'm little.

Hermione had decided that summer (after many tear-filled days) to continue her life as if Severus Snape had never been a part of it. She entered university and excelled, just as everyone knew that she would. She became an expert in Charms (foolish wand-waving) as well as Potions. She had intended to stay away from Potions, but then decided not to let Severus in any way dictate what she chose to do.

Her life was going well. She graduated, and moved into her own flat in London. She had a good job as a researcher for new charms and potions.

But she wasn't happy.

Well, certainly to other people around her she seemed happy. Why shouldn't she have been with all the things that had gone right for her? But she wasn't. She still occasionally had days where all she could do was cry. She didn't know why. After all, she had decided to live life without him. And yet she still couldn't help feeling drawn to wherever he was. He spoke at a convention, and she made sure she was able to go 'for work,' and then sat in her hotel room during his lecture, too afraid to see him again and be rejected by him again.

She simply was not happy without him.

**Ireland, 1849**

Maureen O'Hara was slowly sweeping her small home. Her mind was not on her task, but far away, out in the fields with her husband. She stopped for a moment and swept her frizzy red hair back behind her ears, and began gazing out the little window, thinking hard.

Her husband, Sean O'Hara, had been talking for a while of going to America, the land of plenty. Maureen didn't know why he even bothered going out into their fields. Everything was desolate. Nothing would grow, and nothing had for over three years. Maureen was slowly coming to realize that Sean was right. They were both stubborn, but he normally gave in to Maureen. America had been something different. He was determined it was the right thing to do. Maureen always argued that if they could hardly keep food in their home how could they possibly afford the tickets to America?

Maureen was still lost in her thoughts when Sean arrived in their home. She turned around quickly when she heard the door open. His face and hands were covered in dirt, and his hair looked nearly brown instead of red because of al the dirt in it. 'How did you manage to get so dirty?' Maureen asked him. She set down her broom and walked over to him to help him brush off the loose dirt.

'I decided to dig up some of the crop we planted this year to see if it had even started to grow.' He replied.

'And have they?' Maureen asked hopefully. She ruffled his curly hair and a cloud of brown dust immerged from it.

'No. They're all shriveled up. It's as if the water I put on them didn't help at all, but actually made them worse.' He shook his head, releasing another cloud of dust.

'How can that happen? Are they all like that?'

'I think so. I dug up quite a few, all around the field.'

'I can tell!' Maureen said as she shook out his jacket.

'It just seems pointless.' Sean said. He sat down at the table and sighed.

Maureen sat down next to him. 'I've decided that you are right about America. We need to talk about how we can get over there.'

He looked up at her. 'Are you sure? You seemed so against the idea when I first brought it up.'

'I was. I still am afraid to leave my home, but we can't continue this way.' Maureen sighed and shook her head. 'I could never have believed it could get this bad, but it has.'

'I know what you mean. If we stay I can't guarantee that we'll have food for next winter. But I have thought up a plan to get to America.'

"Really? How can we afford it?'

'We'll have to sell our land.' He said quietly.

'No.' Maureen said.

'It will be of no use to us once we are in America.'

'But...' Maureen trailed off.

'I know it's hard to think of selling the land. It's hard to think of leaving. But we must do it. It's the right thing to do to save ourselves from starvation.' He paused and looked at his wife, who was close to tears. 'Don't think of it as abandoning our home, think of it as traveling to our new home.'

'I...I know your right. We should go tomorrow into town and see if anyone is interested in buying our land.'

That night Maureen didn't sleep well. Sean was snoring loudly, as always, but that normally didn't bother her. She knew what was really keeping her awake was the thought that she wouldn't always live in Ireland. That she was leaving. It wasn't just her family she was going to miss, but she also knew she would miss the land, and the little towns, and all the things that made Ireland her home. She managed to get a little sleep before dawn.

When dawn came she got up and prepared a small breakfast for the both of them. Sean woke up a little while later and they ate in silence. Then they got dressed and walked towards the nearest town. They talked very little on their way to the town. When they got there they went to the town store. The store owner was a good man who had given them credit over the years whenever times got hard. He smiled when he saw the couple enter the store.

'Well, I haven't seen the pair of you in quite a long time! How are you?' He called across the room.

Sean and Maureen walked up to him quickly. 'It's great to see you,' Maureen said.

'We're here to see if anyone would be interested in buying our land.' Sean said.

The store owner's face fell. 'No. Not you two. You two have hung on for so long. And now you want to sell?'

'Yes. It's time to go.' Sean said.

'Well, I'll miss you both terribly. There's a bloke in town right now who's buying people's land. Doesn't pay to well, but he's the only one around who's buying.'

'Thank you.' Maureen said. They walked to the boarding house and asked for the name the store owner had given them. They were led to his room where they knocked quietly on the door.

A stout man, much older than they, opened the door and frowned at them. 'You two want me to buy your land, right?' the man asked in a raspy voice.

'Yes we have, sir.' Sean said.

'Well, I was just about to leave. I've got enough land for me right now.' The man started to close the door.

'Wait, sir.' Sean said. The door reopened. 'We would really appreciate it if you would just come out and have a look. It's very beautiful, and-' he was cut off here.

'Yes, I'm sure it is. Just like all the others. Beautiful land with no actual value except sentimental.' The man sighed. 'Alright. How big is it?'

Sean gave him a rough approximation of the size of their land and the man nodded. 'Fairly good size. Come back tomorrow and I'll tell you what I've decided to do.

So they went back home and spent the rest of the day and that night feeling tense. They didn't talk to each other except when they had to.

The next day came. They walked back into town and knocked on the mans door. He opened the door and scowled at them. 'Oh, yes. I remember now.' He said.

'We came to ask if you are interested in buying our land, sir.' Sean said.

'I have decided to buy your land,' the man said. He pulled out a piece of paper and showed Sean the number. 'That's all I can give you for it.' He didn't seem at all sorry about it.

'That's nothing!' said Sean.

'Well, good luck finding someone else to buy your land then.' The man began to shut his door.

'Wait!' Sean paused for a minute and looked at Maureen. She just looked away. 'We'll take it.'

'Good.' The man disappeared into his room for a moment, and then reemerged with a small wad of money. 'Here's your money, I want you out of the house by tomorrow.' Then his door was closed and Sean and Maureen were left in a dark corridor.

They walked home in silence again. When they got home they sat down at their table. 'It's not enough.' Sean said.

'Why did you accept it then?'

'It's the best we could get. You heard him. He's leaving, and who knows when someone else will come along who wants to buy.' Sean sighed. 'We'll have to move in with my family for a while.'

'We should start packing now.' Maureen pointed out.

They packed most of their clothing and bedding and a few other things. They would have to walk to Sean's family's home, and it was quite a ways away, so they knew not to pack much. That night they lay on heir small bed and stared at the ceiling.

'So what are we going to do?' Maureen asked in the darkness.

'I don't know. We'll have to find out how much it costs to get passage on a ship. Then we'll see if we can afford to both go.'

'So I might stay behind?' Maureen asked. Sean could hear the fear in her voice.

'Just until I have enough money to send for you.' Sean said. 'You know I would never leave you if I could help it. But I might have to. I'm sure my parents would not mind having you stay longer.'

'Yes...well, if that's what has to happen, I suppose it's alright.' Maureen sighed. 'You have to promise me you'll send for me as soon as you can.'

'Oh course I will.' Sean said emphatically. 'You know I love you more than anything, Maureen.'

'Yes, I know.'

They left their home early the next morning. They didn't want to have to see the stout man who now owned their home. Maureen cried a little as they walked away, but Sean put his arm around her and they kept walking away.

They arrived at his family's home that evening. His family greeted them warmly and heartily agreed that both of them could stay for as long as they needed and if Sean had to go away first, Maureen would be welcome in their home until Sean could afford to send for her.

His family was doing well. They raised cows and sheep instead of potatoes and although they were paying quite a lot to feed their animals, they were being paid quite a lot when they sold the animals. They ate a hearty meal, and then Sean and Maureen laid a few blankets on the floor and went to sleep.

The next day Sean's father drove Sean to the town. There he booked passage to America for almost all of the money he had received for his land. When he returned the next day Maureen could tell by his face that he would be going alone.

'It's alright. You just make sure you get good and rich over there and send for me soon.' Maureen said as she hugged him tightly.

'I will.' Sean promised.

The ship taking him to America left in one week from Dublin. His father promised to drive him to Dublin in two days. Maureen and Sean spent their last days together talking about their life in America. Maureen wanted to have many children running around, something they hadn't managed to do yet. Sean had ambitions to become a rich man by selling things. They talked about his trip over and how they hoped it would not be too stormy because the one time Sean had been on a boat before he had gotten terribly sea-sick and it had only been a little dinghy. They laughed as they recalled little moments they had shared in their home, and cried a little as well.

The morning Sean was to leave, they both woke very early.

'I promise I won't cry,' Maureen whispered to him.

'I promise I won't either,' Sean said.

When the rest of the family woke up they all said their farewells to Sean. Many hugs and promises to write were passed back and forth. When the time finally came for Sean to get into his fathers cart he hesitated. He walked back to Maureen and hugged her fiercely. 'I love you.' He whispered to her.

'I love you too.' She choked out.

'Hey now. You promised not to cry.' Sean said as he felt his shoulder become damp for her tears.

'I know. I'm sorry.'

'It's ok. Just think of how happy we'll be when we are together again in America.'

'I love you.' Maureen said, and then let go of Sean.

'I love you too.' Sean got into the cart and his father started to drive away. The rest of the family walked back inside the house after yelling good wishes for a few minutes to Sean, but Maureen stayed out side until the cart was just a tiny blob. It finally disappeared altogether, but she remained standing there until darkness came and her mother-in-law came out to bring her inside the house.

Sean found Dublin very frightening. It was huge, and noisy. His father left him off at the dock, and he found his ship quickly. He was boarded and shoved into a large cramped room that smelled terribly. He quickly claimed a bunk and placed his things next to him. They were scheduled to leave later that night. He watched his fellow passengers board. There were many families, and it made him miss Maureen even more.

When the time came to leave port all the passengers tried to cram onto the top deck. He managed to get a place against one of the railings near the front of the ship. He felt as if he was looking towards his future when he looked out at the great Atlantic Ocean in front of him. It looked calm and clear, and he felt happy.

The days onboard the ship passed by slowly. Sean became sea-sick, as did a majority of the other passengers. They had many storms, which tossed the ship around like a little toy boat. Sean began to feel very weak after a few days of sea-sickness. He had heard a rumor that cholera was spreading through the ship, and he knew having sea-sickness made him more vulnerable to the disease.

Then one day the family who had the bunks surrounding him picked him up and brought him to the ship nurse. He had cholera.

Maureen received a letter at Sean's family's home many weeks after he had left. She had been waiting for a letter, but had not expected it to be from Dublin. It read:

Mrs. Sean O'Hara

We are sorry to inform you that your husband passed away on the Dublin-New York ship. He died of Cholera and his body was buried at sea. All his possessions were burned to prevent the spread of the Cholera.

Our Deepest regrets

Maureen sank to the floor and proceeded to weep.

A/N: Well, I did it! A chapter in a day! It's fairly short, but I didn't really see anything else to put in.

Thanks to my one reviewer for chapter 3, RandomReviewer. Nope, the item is not a book, but thanks for guessing!

I skipped ahead quite far in time, but that wasn't planned. I had planned to do a chapter based in New England, but I had no inspiration or ideas for it, so I decided to simply cut it out. The next chapter should be based in Russia around 1913. I hope to get it out soon and keep this story moving!

As always, please review! It means the world to me!


	5. Russia, 1917

Chapter 5

By Katia

Legal stuff: I don't own anything. It's all JK Rowling's. Please don't hurt me, I'm little.

Dumbledore knew. Somehow the old man had found out, and now seemed determined to have Severus out in public. So he spoke at conventions and attended every dinner imaginable that the Headmaster could drag him to. Severus knew Dumbledore was only trying to get him to run into Hermione, and was angry at the old man, and yet at the same time thankful that he had the chance to maybe see her one day. He thought he saw he once at one of his conferences, in the back row, but by the time he managed to get a better look the seat was empty.

He had followed her through university. He read her published papers over and over, and then made copies and graded them as if she were his student. He read every article she was mentioned in. He almost attended her graduation, but then realized how silly he was being. She had obviously moved on. The feelings she had had for him, that once had been so strong, were now obviously totally gone. He should have been congratulating himself on his success at driving her away and saving her life, but he couldn't. He was simply too miserable.

Every conference that went by without seeing her, every charity dinner and ball he attended without her being there, hurt him. His pain slowly chipped away at him. Unknown to him, he cried every night when he went to sleep all night long. Silent, unknown tears of longing and sorrow. He felt mentally and physically ill. He ate little and lost pleasure in things he used to love, such as grading first-year papers. He became thinner than ever, as well as gaining a sickly pallor far beyond any paleness he had ever before achieved.

He was slowly dying from love-sickness.

Russia, 1917

Katia was freezing cold, even from within her family's carriage with numerous furs on top of her. But somehow she wasn't really paying attention to her numb hands and face. Her mind was occupied by what awaited her at the end of the carriage ride.

Katia and her family were on their way to the Winter Palace of the Czar for the New Year's Day Ball. Not only was the New Year's Day Ball the beginning of each years social season, but it was to be Katia's first ball. The carriage finally rolled to a stop, and Katia braved the cold wind to peek out side the window. They were in a long line of sledges and carriages waiting to drop off their load at the front steps of the Winter Palace.

After many tense (for Katia) minutes, they were finally at the steps and Katia stepped out of the carriage and looked around. There was the grand staircase of beautiful white marble that Katia had always dreamed of as a little girl getting to walk up. As she stepped onto the velvety carpet she felt that there was nothing better in the world than a girl's first ball. Her large fur coat was deposited with an attendant, and then her father took her arm and led her down a long corridor lined with men in white and scarlet uniforms with gold and silver helmets. As he escorted her into the ballroom, she noted that the guard's uniforms were different. They were now dressed in court uniforms with heavy gold embroidery with short breeches and white silk stockings. She giggled a little looking at them, but composed herself when her father pinched her lightly on the arm.

The ballroom was beautiful. Women and men were dancing on the floor and looked like many different colored blurs as they waltzed by. Her mother joined one of her aunts on a settee, and Katia stood behind them, watching the dancers. She quickly caught a glimpse of herself in on of the many long mirrors in the room, and smiled. Her dark brown hair was on top of her head in a sleek, but stylish chignon. Her dress was a light crème colored satin with dark brown fur trim. She thought she looked lovely, and was hoping that at least one man would also so that she would get to dance.

When the first dance ended, her father approached her. Katia saw him coming and knew what he was going to do. 'Father,' she hissed before he could say anything. 'Please don't ask me to dance. If I dance my first dance with my father, no one else will want to dance with me!'

He smiled indulgently at his youngest, nodded, and walked back to continue his conversation with one of his business partners.

Katia gave a sigh of relief as her father walked away, and just hoped that she was right in turning him down. If no one else asked her to dance she was sure her father would poke fun at her about it the whole way home!

Then she saw him. Across the room, speaking with an older woman was the most handsome man she had ever seen. He had dark brown hair, and a handsome mustache. He looked very serious, but Katia decided that normally he would be very jolly. She decided that he was the man she would marry, and in her young seventeen year old mind, that did not seem like a silly decision to make.

She was pulled from her day dreams by a different young man approaching her and asking her to dance. Even though it was not the handsome young man across the room, her face lit up and she immediately accepted. After all, who can turn down their first invitation to dance?

Alex hated balls. Anything that was as wasteful as a ball was a horrible atrocity to him. But his mother wanted him to be here, at what he hoped would be the last ball the royal family ever hosted, so he was here.

He scanned the room, and saw a few of his university friends. As he moved to go speak with them, his mother suddenly stood up. 'Where are you going?' she asked.

'To speak with Igor.'

'I want you to dance tonight,' His mother stated. 'There are many beautiful girls here tonight, and I want you to dance with all of them.'

'You know that I am not interested in that mother.' Alex tried to find his friend Igor again, but had lost track of him in the crowd.

'I know you say you don't, but do it anyway.' She sighed. 'You're here, so you should at least dance with a couple of the girls.'

'Alright mother,' He sighed. 'Tell me who to dance with. I don't want to choose someone who is not suitable and then have you upset with me.'

'Go and speak with your friend first, but be back soon. I'll have a girl picked out for you by then.'

'Thank you mother,' Alex said, and quickly went to find anyone but her to speak with.

Katia had been asked to dance every dance since that first time. She was beyond happy. In a spare moment she had whispered into her mother's ear 'I cannot believe how lucky I am tonight.' Her mother smiled and tried very hard to remember her first ball.

'The revolution will happen, Igor. Please be prepared. You are of too pure of blood to survive with everything you have now.' Alex was trying to convince one of his friends.

'Alex!' He turned, knowing his free time was over. 'I have found who I want you to dance with,' His mother said, as if it was a great pleasure to Alex to take orders from his mother.

'Yes mother? Who is the lucky girl?' He replied sarcastically, though not enough to catch her notice.

"Katia Oblonskya. She is dancing right over there,' she pointed to a beautiful young girl who as dancing with a young officer. 'Her family is well connected, she is beautiful, and it is her first ball. Please do not depress her or fatigue her with your thoughts on the czar.'

'Of course not mother. I wouldn't dream of it.' Alex bowed, and then turned away from his mother. He made his excuses to his friends and then walked over to where Katia was now talking with a friend. It was between dances so he had no time to wait, or think.

'Pardonnez moi,' he spoke in French, 'I would be honored if I could have the next dance.'

'Bien sur!' replied Katia, 'Merci beaucoup.' Alex took her hand and led her onto the floor just as the first notes were beginning.

'I have been told that this is your first ball.' Katia nodded her head. 'And what do you think of it?'

'It is all I imagined, and more.' Katia couldn't believe her luck. Of all the men in the room, the one she had picked out as her fantasy had asked her to dance. She did not know how to even keep up a sensible conversation, but she tried her best. She wanted to impress him. 'The ball is wonderful. I was afraid I wouldn't be asked to dance the whole night!' She couldn't believe she had just said that!

'Of course you would be asked to dance! How silly you must have been to think otherwise!' Alex responded.

They talked on gaily for the rest of the dance. Katia simply glowed in his arms and didn't want the dance to end, but it did. He took her arm as the music faded and led her off the floor.

'Am I too bold to ask that you save the last dance of the night for me?' Alex asked quietly, afraid she would say no.

'I would love to dance with you again. Thank you.' Katia curtseyed low, Alex bowed, and the spell was broken. At least for now.

The rest of the night swirled by for Katia. She was never without a partner, but that didn't seem to matter any more. She only wanted to dance with him. It seemed like an eternity before she finally saw him walking towards her to claim his dance.

'Mademoiselle,' he said as he took her arm.

'Merci,' she said.

They didn't speak as much during this second dance. She searched his eyes to find out why, but couldn't see anything wrong within them, or within his words to her.

Alex was trying to take in as much of her beauty as he could before the dance ended. He didn't know when he would see her again, and wanted to remember her face. Then a horrible thought struck him. She was related to the royals. It did not change his admiration of her, but simply added the worry of what would happen to her in the revolution. He decided to say something to help her, but was afraid of scaring her.

'Do you travel often?' he asked.

'Yes, fairly. We have gone to France many times, as well as Germany and Italy.' Katia was confused as to where this question came from, but she loved hearing his voice.

'Will you be traveling anytime soon?' He asked. He wasn't sure how he intended to go about it, but he was trying to convince her to go out of the country within the next month without letting her think that he didn't care for her.

'I believe this summer we will go to France. Why do you ask?'

'I was simply curious.' He hesitated. 'France is especially pretty in February.'

'I would think the opposite to be true. Isn't it quite dreary?' Katia did not want to have an opinion other than his, but still felt that it was queer that he would say that.

'No, I believe it to be quite lovely.'

'Oh,' Katia was confused, but did not intend to disagree.

The dance ended, much sooner than either of them would have wished, and everyone began to leave the ball. Alex said his goodbyes and retreated into his carriage. He was lost in his thoughts of her. He realized that if he wanted her to live and survive the revolution that was coming he would have to work fast to convince her family to leave Russia. He had no idea how to go about it. He was not intimate with any of her family, and as a part of the revolution he should not help any of the royal family. He had a problem, but he knew he'd find a solution.

Katia floated all the way home. She knew that Alex was the one for her, even if he was a bit odd sometimes. She found it weird that he had forced the topic of France in February, but other than that he seemed perfect in her eyes.

Alex spent the next few days sitting in his library or his office trying to think of a way for Katia to be saved. He couldn't tell her or her family about the revolution because they would not believe him, and her family would forbid her to see him if they thought he supported the revolution. He couldn't suggest they go to France early because he was not close to the family and they would find it strange.

Finally he decided he simply had to do something. He waited on the street in front of Katia's house, and when her father left, after two hours of waiting in the cold, Alex shouted out "Excuse me, Sir!" Her father turned and stared at him. "I must speak with you. It's about your daughter, Katia."

Katia's father walked over to Alex. "What do you have to say to me about my daughter?"

"I love her, and I know some things that I can't tell you, but she must leave the country, with the rest of your family if you are smart. The revolution will happen, sir, and respectfully I beg you to send Katia as far away as you can manage." Alex surprised himself by his boldness, but he knew it was necessary.

"Thank you for the information. Please do not try to contact my daughter any further." Katia's father walked away, and Alex was left standing alone in the middle of the snowy street not knowing if he had failed or succeeded, but fearing the former.

About two weeks after her first ball Katia woke one morning to find her mother packing. "What is going on, mama?"

"We're taking a trip, to France! Isn't that just wonderful, darling?" Her mother's words sounded cheerful, but she was rushing and her face looked tired and possibly even scared.

Katia immediately thought of what Alex had told her about February in France, and wondered if his comments had anything to do with her mother's strange behavior.

"When are we leaving?" She questioned her mother as she got dressed.

"Tonight, if possible. Hurry up getting dressed. I'll need your help with packing."

"Of course, mama." Katia's mind was racing. Leaving tonight! It was far too soon. She wouldn't have any time to contact Alex, or anyone to make sure he knew what was going on.

The day sped by and soon all of their most prized possessions had been loaded onto four sleds and a fifth was waiting for the family. Her father was remaining behind, and he explained that he would join them soon and wished them a good journey. Katia knew that something was wrong, but she could figure out why they waited until it was dark to leave. She knew that this was not like any vacation she had been on before.

Katia lived out her life in Paris. Her father never made it to France, but was murdered the night the revolution began. Katia never saw Alex again, nor did she ever learn what happened to him. A month after she arrived in Paris and two weeks after the revolution started she received a letter from him.

My Dear Katia,

I hope you are well and safe in Paris by now. I am writing this letter at midnight, the day that the revolution will begin. I hope you can understand why things must be this way. Although we only met for the briefest of moments, you have never left my thoughts, and I hope that you feel the same way. When the revolution is over I will come to Paris to find you. I hope that you will then consent to marry me. Katia, I love you. Wait for me, if you can.

All my love to you,

Alex

Katia never married. She remained a prominent figure in Parisian society, although some remarked that it was odd that she never left the city limits. When excursions to Versailles or the Riviera were suggested, Katia always declined, even into her old age. The night she died she was found with the letter in her hand, tear drops from years past had left little smudges in the ink.

A/N: The next chapter will be released next Thursday (it's already written! As is the final chapter, which will be released the Thursday after that!) and it is about a Nazi and a Jew, thanks to Nora's great idea. I decided to finish this story now that I have time with summer break and all. This story hasn't been updated in almost two years, but it has always been at the back of my mind. I hope that someone still remembers and reads it!

TonTon wins the guessing contest. The repeated item is tears, or crying of some sort.

Also, I changed the rating from M to T, let me know if anyone disagrees. I simply don't think that there is any swearing or adult themes that are horrible enough for an M rating. I'd love feedback though!

Please review, although I hardly deserve it after such a long time between chapters. The rest of the story is finished though, and I promise to release it, one chapter a week!


	6. Germany, 1933

**Chapter 6**

By Katia

Rating: T

Legal stuff: I don't own anything. It's all JK Rowling's. Please don't hurt me, I'm little. You get the picture.

Her heart skipped a beat. _Bloody hell, what is he doing here?_ She blinked, but he still sat there. _Well, I suppose he has a right to be here._ She paused, unsure of what to do, then gathered up her courage and walked over to the grimy little table at the back of the Leaky Cauldron that Severus Snape was sitting at. This was her chance, maybe her only one, and she was going to take it. Damn him for making her life miserable, but she still loved him and still was drawn to him.

"Hello, Professor." She said as she slid into the chair across from him. The look in his eyes as he raised them to meet hers was incomprehensible. She wasn't certain but she thought she saw him pass from surprise to anger and then back to his usual stony exterior.

"Hello, Miss Granger. To what do I owe this pleasure?" He managed to get out civilly.

"I was just passing through on my way back from some shopping. When I saw you I simply thought I could reminisce with a former professor. I hope you do not mind the intrusion." She smiled, knowing full well that he most certainly did mind.

"Miss Granger, you know perfectly well how I feel about seeing you." His eyes returned to the paper in front of him.

"Yes, I do remember those things you have said to me. I suppose…" She paused, her courage about to fail her when she most needed it. "Well, I supposed that perhaps, after all this time, that you might have…changed your mind."

"People don't change, Miss Granger." His eye still didn't leave the paper.

"No, but perceptions, opinions, ideas, they can change with time. I just wanted to know, one last time." She held her breath. It was all out there now, and she knew that his answer would most likely break her heart into a million pieces again. She couldn't for the life of her understand why she had put herself out there for him to once again belittle her and possible send her back into that dark place that she had fought so hard to get out of before.

He looked up from his paper, deep into her eyes, and took a deep breath. Her heart was nearly pounding out of her chest.

_This is it._

**Germany, 1933**

He straddled his bike, staring at her. She sat there every day after school, just sitting on the front steps, reading for hours. He couldn't understand it. He had been watching her nearly everyday for the last few weeks after classes let out. He wasn't sure why, but she intrigued him. She was younger, probably in only her fifth year, while he was in his final year.

"Koen!" He whipped his head around, and seeing his friends all about to leave the school, he quickly got on his bike and joined them.

"What were you doing, Koen?" Fritz asked him as the raced down the street.

"Oh, nothing. Just thinking." He couldn't tell his friends about the girl. He wasn't sure how they would react, or really he wasn't even sure himself why he watched her.

"You've been doing that a lot lately after school."

"Yeah, I know." He brushed it off. "Do you think we have time before Jugend to stop by the bakery?"

"We can always make time for the bakery! You know that!" The boys peddled off down the street, with Koen giving the girl on the steps one final glance.

Ada put her book down for a moment to search the square for her brother. He was no where in sight, as usual, so she continued waiting. In the past months her family had begun to be more cautious in public. Rumors spread through the city of Jews being taken away or killed. Ever since the Reichstag had been burned she had noticed that her friends had become a little distant. She wasn't allowed outside the house without her parents or brother with her. Her father, being a doctor, was certain that his family would be safe due to his position, but didn't want to take any chances in the streets where no one would know that Ada was his daughter. She thought his worries were silly. She didn't even look Jewish, with her almost-blonde hair. But he still worried.

Ada picked her book back up and began reading. She had always felt different from the other children for one reason or another. At times she was acutely aware of her Jewish heritage, and how it set her apart from most everyone else. Other times she found the other children annoying or stupid. She knew she was far more mature than they were, but it still surprised her sometimes. It wasn't that she didn't have friends, but they were more of the sort to talk to during lunch period than the type who become a second part of the family because they visit so often. At times she wondered if she would want to have friends like that. She saw the other girls, how they paired off within their own groups and became inseparable. Thank goodness her intelligence and imagination was always able to redirect these thoughts to more pleasant or interesting things.

"Ada!" She looked up quickly at the sound of her name. "Let's go, hurry!" her brother yelled at her across the square. She ran over and hopped onto the posts of his bike, wondering what her mother was making for dinner at that very moment.

Koen tried to focus in Jugend, but was distracted by his thoughts of the girl. He knew she was Jewish. She didn't look Jewish and he had been surprised when someone had pointed to her as she passed in the hall and called her "Jew bitch."

He was pulled back into the present by his group leader asking him a question. "Will you be joining us this weekend Koen, or do you prefer to daydream?"

"Sorry, sir. Yes, sir." Koen replied. He was actually looking forward to the camping trip. They were going into the nature park, not far out of the city.

After Jugend Koen and Fritz walked toward the city center on their way home. Fritz was more than talkative for them both, so Koen simply walked beside him silently. Thankfully Fritz hardly ever required a response, so Koen was left to his own thoughts again, which was what he preferred. At the city center they bid each other a good night and went their separate ways. It was a cold night and Koen was doing his best to get home quickly, but a sudden gust of wind stopped him dead in his tracks. He was over come by a smell. The wind was from the North, or maybe the West, he couldn't be sure, and the smell filled him with a strange feeling. He couldn't place it. Within seconds the smell was gone and he continued on his way home, his thoughts occupied by this strange occurrence.

Ada's mother was baking, and the scent of strudel filled the house and made her smile. She was staring out the window into the street, watching as people bustled by towards the city center, or home with freshly wrapped packages. Everyone was bundled up against the cold. She loved watching people, studying them. She had studied her father closely today. He was tense and upset about something, but she had been prevented from furthering her investigations when he had closed himself in his study after lunch. Her mother was suddenly behind her and placed one hand on her shoulder while the other handed her a fresh apple strudel.

"Come away from the window," Her mother said softly, closing the drapes.

Ada moved back into the kitchen and sat at the small table. "Papa doesn't seem happy today. What's the matter?"

"Oh, nothing of importance darling. Just know that he loves you very much, but had a lot on his mind. We all love you very much," She felt her mothers hand smooth her hair as she walked back to the oven.

"Yes mama." Ada picked up her book from where she had left it earlier that day and began reading while her mother baked.

The day passed quickly and soon Ada was in bed, with her favorite book, Grimm's Fairytales, hidden under the covers. Her parents had given it to her as a Hanukah gift many years ago, but she still loved to read it. Her eyes closed quickly and she was soon fast asleep.

The sounds were muffled at first. Whispering, and hurried footsteps slowly woke her from her pleasant dreams. Through her sleep-fogged mind she heard her father's voice becoming more urgent, and then three loud thuds on the front door.

Her mother's face was suddenly in her doorway. "In the closet! Now! Hide yourself and don't come out until I tell you to! Don't make a sound, Ada, not a sound. Remember that I love you. Remember." Her mother's eyes looked as if she were about to cry, but just as Ada opened her mouth to speak her mother disappeared and the sounds from the front entryway became louder.

Ada quickly went into her closet and hid behind boxes of summer clothing, with a blanket over her head. She clutched her book to her chest as she heard yelling. Her father and bother's voices mixing with voices she couldn't recognize.

The voices were coming closer, and Ada began to shake from head to toe. She couldn't hear her brother any longer, and she though she could hear her mother, far away. Her father was still yelling things she couldn't understand, and the other voices…they were the ones that frightened her the most. She began to hear crashes and the sound of things being shattered. She thought of her mothers words "_Remember that I love you. Remember_." She wanted to cry, but instead she focused on hearing the things going on around her.

Her mothers scream pierced through her heart, and then the house became quieter. She could hear low voices, voices she didn't know, talking. Her father was silent, her mother was silent, her brother was silent.

Someone was in her room. Her heart leapt, hoping it was her mother, but not daring to move. She heard a mans voice, and then footsteps back out into the hall. Her heart sunk. The house became quiet, silent. The door slammed, and she was alone.

Her mind raced. Her father's strange mood, her mother pulling her away from the window, and her mothers eyes that night, filled with fear and tears. Ada felt the hot stinging as her own eyes filled with tears. After a while, maybe minutes, maybe hours, she lay herself down on the hard, dusty floor and silently cried herself back to sleep.

The weekend had gone great! Koen loved the outdoors, loved hiking and working with his hands to build things. They had stayed next to the small lake in the nature park, and had spent their days hiking, fishing, and just enjoying being in nature. He had been sad when they packed up their things early Monday morning and headed back to school.

His mother wasn't a supporter of the Jugend, but she saw that it was necessary for her son. She didn't like the things they taught him there, and was worried he would become a blind follower of their teachings. She had raised him to be an independent thinker, and saw the Jugend as contradicting all her beliefs. His father on the other hand completely supported his Jugend activities, and in fact encouraged it. That was the only reason he had been allowed to go on the weekend trip, and he was grateful.

That day at school his thoughts were still back in the nature park, but once school was over and he stood waiting in the square for Fritz his thoughts turned to the girl. She wasn't on her usual perch. He wondered if he had missed her, or if she simply hadn't been in school that day. His thoughts were pulled away as usual by Fritz and the two boys peddled off towards the bakery.

Ada opened her eyes slowly. She wiped her eyes, and then listened quietly. No sounds came to her ears besides those of the normal activities taken place out on the street. She slowly put her head back down on the floor, clutching her book tightly, and waited. Her mother had said not to leave until she came back to get her, so she wasn't going to move. Her mother would come, she knew she would, and then everything would be alright again.

She suddenly realized she had missed school. She wondered what her teachers would think. She loved school and her teachers and wanted them all to think highly of her. She hoped they would understand when she tried to explain tomorrow.

What had happened last night? She couldn't figure it out. Her family was gone, some people had taken them away, and her house had from the sound of it been torn apart. She sniffed a little remembering her mothers voice, and then the scream.

Her eyes clamped shut tightly and she blocked it out, forced the memory from her mind, and slowly calmed her breathing.

She propped the book up and began to read. "_The Hare's Bride_."

Koen was slowly pedaling home from the bakery. He didn't mind the cold as much after spending the entire weekend in it. He took his time, thinking about the weekend, and then pondering why the girl had been missing.

As he turned a corner he noticed that one of the nicer homes on the street looked as though someone had robbed it. The window of the front door was smashed in. He hopped off his bike and looked through the hole. The entryway was littered with smashed bits of wood and crumpled papers. The door was open, so letting his curiosity get the better of him he walked in.

A picture frame was face down on the landing going up to the kitchen. He turned it over and looked at the family behind the shattered glass. They were well dressed, with dark hair, and-

"What?!" He stared closer. "No, it can't be." The young girl sitting next to her mother was the girl from the school square. She smiled up at him, her blonde hair such a contrast to her family. He stared closer, to make sure it was really her, and then slowly put the frame back down. _So this is her house. I wonder what happened._

He slowly made his way into the kitchen, trying not to step on any glass. The kitchen had obviously been pristine and beautiful, but now the chair and table lay at odd angles across the room, and the drawers had been emptied onto the floor. More photo frames were smashed on the ground, but Koen didn't look at these. His eyes were caught by the strudels sitting on top of the stove. It was such a normal sight to see, surrounded by all the chaos.

He slowly walked into a hallway. Pictures hung from the walls at odd angles and most were smashed. He saw the girl's smiling face in more than one of the pictures. He picked one small photo frame off the ground and stared at it. It seemed very recent. She was sitting on a beach in a summery dress holding a book and smiling. He wasn't sure why, but he quickly pulled the photo from the broken glass and frame and stuffed it into his trouser pocket. He put the frame back on the ground and kept walking.

He came to a study first. Papers were strewn everywhere and the contents of the drawers had been dumped on the floor, just as in the kitchen.

He quickly moved on, suddenly feeling as if he were intruding, which he was, but it hadn't really struck him before. He opened the door to a bedroom with a simple desk and bed with a blue blanket. He closed the door and peered into the next room. It had to be hers. Bookshelves lined the walls; the desk was littered with school work and papers. He slowly walked in. The only indication that this was a young girls room was the teddy bear with a pink bow on her bed.

He suddenly stopped moving and listened. He though he could hear something moving. He moved towards the closet.

"Mama?" A small voice called from within the closet. He slowly opened the door. He couldn't see anything except for clothes and some boxes.

"Who's there?" He said softly.

A head peaked out from beneath a blanket in the back of the closet. It was dirty and had marks where tears had flown, but he knew it was the girl. She stared at him and he stared back.

"My mother told me to wait her for her." Her voice was very soft, even though he was only a few feet away from her.

"You should come with me," He said, trying to match her volume. "We go to school together, do you recognize me?"

"I think so." She looked at him intently. "But I should stay here."

He thought hard. He wasn't even sure what to do with her. Her family must have been taken away by the secret groups that had been targeting Jews in the past months. They were unlikely to return anytime soon, if at all. She was very lucky that she hadn't been found. "Come with me to my home. My mother would love to meet you, and we can keep you there until your mother comes."

He could feel her eyes scrutinizing him. "Why are you here?" She asked in her quiet voice.

He didn't know what to say. He wasn't even sure himself why he had gone into the house. "I saw you weren't at school today and was worried about you," He made it up as he went. His father wouldn't be home that night, and he knew if he explained to his mother she would know what to do with the girl, he just had to convince her to come with him.

"I am kind of hungry," She said shyly, looking away from him.

"My mother is a great cook, I bet she has dinner ready right now!" He took the hand she held out to him and pulled her up and out of the closet. He noticed that her other hand was gripping a fearfully large book compared to her small size close to her, but decided not to say anything. He led her quickly out of the house, watching her as her eyes scanned the room. She picked her coat up off the floor in the entry way and shook all the glass off of it. She stared up at him and nodded that she was ready to leave, and he led her out the door to his bike.

They were silent the entire way to his home. Koen didn't know what to say. She was young, but she didn't seem stupid. She likely knew what had happened. He just hoped his mother wouldn't make a scene before he could explain, although the thought of the dirty girl currently sitting on his handlebars walking into his mother's kitchen almost caused him to laugh.

They were at his house soon and he helped her down from his bike. He led the way into the house. As he opened the door he saw his mother at the stove with her back to him. "Finally home, Koen? What took you so long?"

He stepped into the room, and closed the door behind the girl. He realized he still didn't know her name. "I found a friend on the way home who I though I should bring along." His mother turned around at this and took in the sight of the dirty little girl standing in her kitchen. She smiled gently and said to Koen "I'm sure there's some wonderful explanation for this, but why don't you help your friend out of her coat and show her someplace to put that book before we go into it."

Koen took her coat from her and made sure it wasn't touching his mothers on the hooks before turning back to the girl and reaching for the book. "No." Her voice was firm, still quiet, but very firm.

"I only want to put it down on the table, it must be very heavy." He could still see the resistance in her eyes.

"No." Her voice was final, so he let it go.

His mother put a heaping plate of potatoes and meatballs down on the table. The girl's eyes were suddenly focused on the food. "Go ahead and eat, Koen and I are just going into the next room and will be right back." His mother indicated the girl should sit down, and she didn't wait to be asked twice.

In the next room Koen suddenly realized that all of his mother's politeness towards the girl was not going to rub off on him. "Explain, young man." Her eyes were dark.

"She's a girl from school, a year or two younger than me. She's Jewish." His mothers face flashed an unreadable emotion, but then went back to anger. "I passed her house on the way home, and it was ruined. I went in to look around, and no one was there. It was mess. I found her in her closet. She's been crying. I think her family's been taken away. I wasn't sure what to do." He stopped, hoping that she would help him.

"So her family's gone. I suppose we'll have to bring her to the orphanage tomorrow. I never would have thought she was Jewish. I suppose I'll think of something by tomorrow. She can stay here tonight, just don't tell your father."

"Yes, mama."

"Well, let's get back in there and see if she needs anything." His mother sighed and walked back into the kitchen.

The food was good, and she was warm. She wasn't sure what the boy was up to, but she was glad that she had food. She didn't' even know his name. It made her feel strange to be in his home, with his mother. _I wonder where my mother is right now_. She shook her head and focused on getting the food into her mouth as quickly as possible.

The boy and his mother walked back into the kitchen after a moment. "What's your name, child?" the mother asked.

She swallowed quickly and managed "Ada" before shoveling more food into her mouth.

"Well, Ada, we'd love for you to stay the night with us. We'll get you cleaned up, and tomorrow we'll take you to wait for your family to come back."

"When are they coming back?" She managed between bites.

The mother looked confused, or maybe sad. "I'm not sure, darling."

Ada put down the fork and stared at the wall, griping her book with both hands. "They aren't coming back, are they? Papa was worried about this."

The mother was silent, simply looking at Ada with pity in her eyes. After a few moments she broke the silence. "We'll get you all cleaned up tonight, once you've had as much as you want to eat of course! And then we'll have you get some sleep before we bring you in tomorrow."

"Thank you." Ada paused for a moment, and then began to eat as quickly as before.

Time seemed to blur by. She was able to scrub all the dust and dirt off herself and was soon asleep under a pile of blankets on a couch in their living room, her book tucked safely under her arm.

The next morning she was woken by the wonderful smell of breakfast. She quickly got up and nearly ran into the kitchen. The mother put a plate in front of her and she began eating, nearly as quickly as she had the night before.

"Ada," the mother spoke to her while she continued cooking breakfast. "I've been thinking about what we need to do for you. I think we should bring you to an orphanage. They will be able to take care of you until your parents return. I wish I could let you stay here, but I simply cannot." She paused and looked at Ada, who was still eating, but a little more slowly. "I know you are Jewish, but I don't think we should tell the orphanage. Unfortunately these are not good times to hold the beliefs that your family does."

The mother put down the pan and walked over to stare Ada right in the eyes. "It is very important that you understand me. You must not tell anyone that you are Jewish. You must not mention anything about being Jewish. Do you think you can do this?"

"Yes, ma'am." Ada nodded.

"Good. Never forget what I told you, Ada. It's very important." The mother went back to cooking, and soon Koen walked into the kitchen.

"I have to go to school, mother. When are you going to bring Ada to the orphanage?" He looked at the girl, who was eating an amazing amount of food.

"Shortly after breakfast, I believe."

"Oh." He had wanted to go with them, to help Ada, but hopefully she would be put back into school after a few days. He left for classes after a quick breakfast, telling Ada he would see her again soon. She had thanked him as he walked out the door.

Ada managed to hide being Jewish through the war. She saw many terrible things. She came of age in 1937 and got a job as a seamstress. She worked sewing parachutes and was able to remain safe. The war finally ended when she was almost 26. When it ended she moved to America and was free to do whatever she pleased. She started practicing Judaism again, and found comfort in the memories it brought to her. She never heard anything of her family again. They were very early victims of what came to be called the Holocaust.

She never forgot the young boy who found her in her home. She always wondered what had happened to him. She married a young American Jewish man after a couple of years, and she knew he loved her very much. They had a good life together, but she was always haunted by her past.

Koen was drafted into military service two years later. He had tried to visit Ada, but was told she had been transferred to a different orphanage. He was forced to give up. He served his country well, being drawn quickly through the ranks. He had worked his way up to second lieutenant when he was killed in 1944 on the Russian front. Among his personal effects was a picture of a young girl on a beach with a book, smiling.


	7. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

By Katia

Rating: T

Legal stuff: I don't own anything. It's all JK Rowling's. Please don't hurt me, I'm little. You get the picture.

**London, 2007**

"The know-it-all is wrong again. Things do not change." Her heart sunk.

"I apologize, Professor. I will be on my way then." She moved to get out of her chair, but one of his hands grabbed her wrist and kept her from moving. She stared at him, but sat back down.

"I would like the opportunity to explain myself, Miss Granger."

"Of-Of course, Professor." She could not understand what was going on.

"My opinions, as I believe you put it, have not changed, although I believe you mistake what they are as they concern you. He looked up at her and the look in his eyes shook her right through her core. _What is going on?_

"I have always held you in the highest regard, Miss Granger. I have, in fact, followed your progress through University, and beyond." She gasped a little, and her face turned a shade of pink, but they maintained their eye contact.

"You have done well, and I am proud of you." Was he really saying what she thought he was saying, or would he end by assuring her that he had never felt anything more than a friendship of sorts. She began to entertain hopes that it would end better than that.

"Hermione," he paused for a moment. "I have never stopped caring for you. I have never stopped loving you." He spoke in a near whisper, but she clung to every word.

"I went to your conferences and was too afraid to see you," she whispered. "I have loved you all this time. I still do. But why? Why did-"

He cut her off quickly. "It was not safe. I couldn't bare the thought of you being killed because you were with me. And they would have killed you, had they found out."

"Why didn't you tell me, or explain it like this?" She was near tears, not sure if they were from happiness or sadness.

"I didn't think you would understand," he said simply.

"I have suffered for nearly eight years!"

"As have I, Hermione."

"Why didn't you tell me before?" She realized his hand had moved from her wrist to grasp her hand. It felt warm and right.

"You seemed happy, successful. Who was I to invade your world and ruin it with my unhappiness?" He shrugged. "I honestly believed that you were better off without me."

She sighed, and then smiled at him. "We were both rather childish in handling this whole situation, weren't we?"

"I suppose we were." He almost smiled at her. "I am very glad you came to speak with me today."

She was puzzled for a moment. "What do we do now?"

"That is up to you, Hermione. I have told you how I feel, but I do understand if you only came over here today to get answers. I can accept that."

"Haven't you been listening?" She nearly laughed. "I want more, Severus. I want you."

This time he did smile. It was small, but it was there. "This is sudden, I know but…" he paused, looked away for a moment, and then "Will you marry me?"

Hermione was stunned. She hadn't talked to him in eight years. Could she agree to this? She looked into his eyes and knew the answer. He was right, people don't change, at least nothing significant changes. He was still the Severus she loved, and she knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. "Yes, Severus. I will."

They were married in a small and beautiful ceremony. He looked into her eyes, and she into his, and they both could feel the love flowing between them. Finally everything in the world seemed right, seemed at peace.

As they danced slowly together in his chambers that night he softly whispered into her hair "Mrs. Snape. You are mine now. Forever."

_The way you wear your hat  
The way you sip your tea  
The memory of all that  
No, no they can't take that away from me_

The way your smile just beams  
The way you sing off key  
The way you haunt my dreams

_No, no they can't take that away from me_

We may never, never meet again, on the bumpy road to love  
Still I'll always, always keep the memory of…

The way you hold your knife  
The way we danced till three  
The way you've changed my life  
No they can't take that away from me

Everything was as it was meant to be. This time fate stood back and did not intervene. They would continue to love each other through time, but this one moment stood out from the rest. It ended _happily_.

A/N: Song by Ella Fitzgerald (my favorite song ever!). I forgot about this fic once again, although it is one of my favorites that I've written. Please review! I hope everyone enjoyed the ending! It's quite short, but I felt it was adequate.


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